Augustus
by quiet quill
Summary: 6 years of friendship, 16 years of hate. How could that form the foundation for anything else but disaster?
1. Chapter 1

Severus inched forward and craned his neck around the corner.

_All clear._ The worried frown on his face relaxed slightly.

He had potions class in three minutes, and he _needed_ to get there.

_Without interruption._

Looking to his right and left, Severus took a deep breath and barreled down the hallway. His footsfalls echoed down the long corridor. He caught his breath at the top of the stairs, and glanced down.

Again, all clear.

He dashed down the steps, taking two or three at a time, and raced down the hallway.

"Right at St. Aubry on the Rocks…left at the Gorgons… right at St. Aubry on the Rocks, left at the Gorgons…" He muttered directions to himself. As a second year, he knew how to get around better than the first years, but that didn't mean he didn't still get lost.

"Left at the Gorgons…" He shot past, heading straight for the solid oak door.

He lifted the wrought iron handle with a groan, and threw his slight body into door. His leg muscles shook with effort and his heart felt ready to pound through his chest. The potions door was heavy—abominably so! He em almost /em regretted his mad dash from Transfigurations.

Almost.

The unwieldy door clicked and gave way. "Finally." Severus murmured to himself, shimmying his small frame through the crack. He darted to a table in the back and practically jumped into his seat.

_Please don't notice me. Please don't notice me. Please don't notice me._ He prayed. It was times like these that Severus just wished he knew some invisibility spell-- or had an invisibility cloak. He would give his whole left arm for the ability to sneak around unnoticed--he was sure of it!

But, today, as most days, his prayers went unanswered, as Professor Slughorn boomed across the classroom.

"Mr. Snape!"

Severus flinched at his clipped tone.

All at once, thirty heads swiveled in his direction, and Severus found himself staring out into a sea of unfriendly faces. The hazel eyes of James Potter and the grey eyes of Sirius Black glinted with a particularly hard light.

Severus shivered in his seat. The cold of the dungeons seemed to seep into his very bones.

"I will not have you barreling through my classroom." Professor Slughorn's jowls shook, and slight spittle flew with each punctuation. "This is a potions classroom. The ingredients are em dangerous. /em"

Professor Slughorn's eyes drilled into his own.

"If you are going to be late, the correct response is not to hasten your steps, but to _leave_ _earlier_. Have I made myself clear, Mr. Snape?"

"Yes sir." Severus bowed his head, his eyes prickling with an uncomfortable sting.

How could he tell them he didn't leave early because he couldn't leave early? If he left early, Potter and Black caught him and made him late. If he left late, they merely waited for the professor to mete out their punishment.

Severus cast a furtive glance towards his two tormentors. They were both smirking. He frowned into his cauldron, the Hogwarts crest blurring before his eyes.

It really just wasn't fair.

"Today," Professor Slughorn began ignorant of Severus' internal dilemma, "we will be brewing Hair-rasing potion." "The necessary ingredients are on your desk. The directions are on the blackboard. Begin."

Silence followed the Professor's command, punctuated only with the sounds of chopping and slicing, mincing and dicing. That was until Potter's smug tone broke over the stillness.

"Professor Slughorn?" Potter smiled secretively. "I seem to be missing some ingredients."

"What ingredients, Mr. Potter?" The professor eyed the boy with a keen expression.

"Snake intestines." He drawled, as if savoring each delectable syllable.

The professor huffed non-committally. "Here you are Potter. Now get back to work."

Potter bobbed his head in a quick bow. With the flash of an impish smile, he scurried back to his seat, turning his loathsome blue eyes towards Snape. And to Severus' never ending horror, he winked.

A strange emotion flitted over Severus' face, but, he ignored the unusual fluttering in his stomach. Wiping clammy hands on his sleeve, he steadied his knife hand and plunged the blade into the soft flesh.

SQUUUUEEEELLLCH…

Slimy organs slipped over his small digits. Severus grimaced. It was going to be a long potions class!

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	2. Chapter 2

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Forty-five minutes later, Severus straightened his back. Wisps of black hair clung to his forehead, and he was vaguely aware of an itch under his right temple. He wanted to scratch it!!

But, he couldn't risk his sweat contaminating the potion.

Resisting the urge, he stoppered the vial. A sense of satisfaction suffused his limbs. There were so few impurities in the pink vial it practically glowed in his grasp.

His classmates voiced their disapproval, but he paid them no mind. He had brewed a better potion, and they were jealous. There was little he could do about that.

"Slimy Slytherin bastard." Potter and Black sniggered behind his back with Remus' quiet chuckle filling in the background.

Severus fixed them with a dark stare.

Idiots.

He would be tempted to roll his eyes at such juvenile behavior, had he been prone to such immature displays. But, he wasn't, so he didn't.

With a final sneer for Potter and his goons, Severus shouldered his bag and fled the room. When the heavy potions door clicked into place behind him, a slow smile spread across his features.

He had made it out of the potions classroom—first—not Potter, not Black. There was nothing to stop him from getting to his next class _on time_. His grin deepened. If he had had any friends, they might have likened him to the Cheshire cat, but, as he didn't, and he wasn't, he the paid the metaphor little mind. So it was with a light bounce in his step, he made his way to the Northwest tower.

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At the trapdoor, Severus' small smile grew into a grin. He had made it. He entered the Divination classroom and inwardly winced at the myriad of colors and combinations thereof that assaulted his senses. Professor Moria, it seemed, had the color sense of a rainbow fairy with a bad case of the stomach flu. This room gave a whole new meaning to the words "taste the rainbow."

With a sigh, he made his way through the cushions that littered the floor, in an effort to find the cushion least offensive to the senses. It was fuchsia and troll-bogey grey.

Ugh. He sank into the cushion with a wince. But, while his bum was certainly offended, his legs didn't seem to mind the revolting upholstery.

His classmates trickled in, and it wasn't more than two minutes later when Professor Moria made her presence known.

Her entrance was unmistakable—she swept into the classroom with the restraint of a hurricane—arms and legs flailing about. She flitted about, too nervous to stay in one place for too long, and her hair stood on end as if in a constant state of electro-magnetic flux.

Severus thought she resembled a rather hyperactive hummingbird.

On pixie dust.

Professor Moria darted about the room until she alighted on her perch at the front of the class. A low couch, it was a rather unfortunate shade of ocher-- that clashed with everything. Including black.

Professor Moria referred to it of-course as her "psychic couch," while Severus preferred to think of it more in terms of "psycho's couch." But, that was more of a winGArdium, WINGardium type of quandary, and he wasn't one to argue semantics.

"Students! Students!" The Professor's voice broke Severus' train of thought. "My scholastic collaborators in all that is Divine, you are here today to discover with me the wonders of reading the body." She punctuated the words 'wonders' and 'reading the body' with a magnanimous wave of her hands. One particularly violent thrust almost sent her reeling. Severus silently marveled at her ability to remain seated.

Professor Moria continued on, unaware of his thoughts. "I'd like our harmony groups for today to be in pairs today. Focus your inner eye and find a partner which resonates with your peace sensors. You should feel yellows and oranges fill your center charka around your navel." She turned expectant eyes to her pupils.

They all blinked back.

In a class of Slytherins, channeling peace implied a diplomatic miracle. Needless to say, no one moved, and no one focused their inner eye. If anyone felt anything in their center charkas, they would certainly have described in terms of a hazy grey.

Professor Moria buzzed again.

"Mr. Snape."

Severus blinked owlishly. "Yes?"

"You need to extend your orbital feelers."

What? What did she just say?

Professor Moria huffed indignantly at his confused look. "You need to find a new table. You can't work by yourself."

Severus looked around the room. There was no on at his table.

Resignedly, he shuffled his feet towards the table at his left. He knew the Jacobs boy. He remembered his tall and wiry frame from the Sorting Ceremony. And while he hadn't really spoken to him much, really at all, since that time, he needed a partner. Jacobs would have to do.

The other boy watched Severus advance, an intense expression on his face. He started mouthing something to Severus.

"No… No have…" He squinted harder. "No half-bl…" Severus' eyes shot open at Jacob's intended message. He was the only half-blood in his class. How could he have forgotten?! Instinctively, he took a step back, and threw a desperate glance at his professor.

Now what was he supposed to do?

Seconds dragged on into minutes, but no one called his name, and no one made room at their table. No one wanted him.

Severus hung his head, his arms swinging listlessly at his side. "I don't want to be in any of their groups." His voice sounded petulant even to his own ears, but he didn't want to give his classmates the satisfaction of knowing he had actually wanted to join their groups. He sighed, waiting on the professor.

Professor Moria stared at Severus, the expression in her chick-pea eyes dark and unreadable. "That's fine." She waved her arms magnanimously. "You will partner with me. Have a seat and we'll begin." Raising her voice, she addressed the class. "Your first five minutes will be spent in silent meditation. Empty your mind and extend your third eye—just as we practiced last class. You will be attempting to see your partner's inner persona, so have your quills ready. You may begin."

Thus began one of Severus Snape's most dismal Divination classes ever.

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End file.
